Still Burning

We sat in chairs on the second-story wooden deck talking, a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

We sipped and then took a drag, breathing in the nicotine and exhaling the remnants.

In. Out. In. Out.

The smoke disappeared into the night.

I laughed at a joke he made as I glanced over to see the side of his young, handsome face, illuminated by a distant but bright street light.

Our only view was the hard, brick wall of the next apartment building. No stars, only city lights.

We were just friends.

We put out our cigarettes. It was getting late.

He kissed me on the cheek and I locked the door behind him.

I went to bed alone, after brushing the cigarette taste from my mouth.

In the dead of the night I awoke to a crackling noise.

My nose smelled it right away.

I was suddenly flush with adrenalin as I ran from my comfy bed.

And there, on the other side of the window the bright orange flames danced their dance.

Burning, smoking, scaring.

After the firemen left my whole apartment smelled like smoke, even though the fire barely got in.

I sat on the sofa by myself and bawled, thinking of how much worse it could have been.

I was tired from the 3 a.m. wake up. I wanted to go back to bed but there was no way.

I don’t know whose cigarette wasn’t put out all the way. Could have been his. Could have been mine.

I wanted my Mommy but she was 200 miles away and there was nothing she could do. But scold me.

I sat there for hours watching t.v., finally the sun coming in through the now shattered window.

I stopped smoking.

For a while anyway…

This was written in response to the memoir prompt at The Red Dress Club in which the inspiration was a photo of an ashtray with burning cigarettes. I do not currently smoke. I smoked casually at this time in my life and usually just “bummed” them off of my friends. They fixed the deck of my apartment and I never smoked there again. If you are my mother and you are reading this, it’s okay Mom. 😉 You can breathe again.

I also dabbled, but gave it up quickly. There are still days when I pass someone in the parking lot and feel an urge to ask for a bum though. Especially if I just spent an hour with the kiddos grocery shopping.

I knew something was going to happen but I thought it was going to be with him after he left. I thought you created a great contrast between the potential sexiness of smoking, especially in handsome company and the destructive power of smoke.

This was a well written recap that brought the anxiety, the fear and the emotion of the moments surrounding the fire into our lives. I’m glad you and he were both OK and that you stopped dabbling, and that you stopped then, as well, even if temporarily. Whew. How scary. Waving hi to your mom if she’s reading! 😉

I started smioking when I was 20. A little late start but then quit 4 years later. I didn’t have quite the wakeup call that you did, but went to a conference with my graduate advisor and my labmates. I was hiding behind buildings to smoke so they wouldn’t see me. I figured if I was so embarrassed about it, maybe I should stop…so I did. :0)

I’m not even kidding when I tell you this:Years ago I used to smoke and I was working at a home where I was the crisis worker (with another worker too) and the kids were in bed so we went for a smoke. We put our smokes out in the flower pot and then took the cigarettes to the butt can at the front of the house.That night the embers from our cigaretter smouldered in the dirt in the flower pot and burnt the deck down!!!!The fire dep. said it happens all the time.OMG!I paid for her deck and felt terrible!The other girl I was working with said she didn’t smoke – as if.

That is horrible! Fire in the home is one of my biggest fears. Kind of interesting how strong a hold cigarettes have; starting up again after something like that – not judging,just an observation on ciggs.